notes ! his necklace is a random soda bottle cap hes quirky.
I wanted to draw his feathers more detailed....
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"people always make *insert south park charcater* into an uwu soft baby meanwhile this is *said character*"
mf... they coulda killed my grandma then put her on a plane that'll crash into arlington national cemetery. im still gonna draw them as cutsie wootsie lemon tootsie as i damn well please
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Ok, all joking aside (see what I did there?)
We don't talk enough about the way that Ian and Mickey have set their Friday nights aside for 'just us' nights.
Ordering in, putting on their comfiest clothes, and just spending the whole evening doing absolutely nothing - together.
Sometimes they spend it cuddled up and watching a movie, with a lot of stolen kisses in the boring parts. Sometimes Mickey plays video games and Ian reads a book with his head in Mickey's lap. Those nights are always good until Mickey gets too enthusiastic and whacks his husband in the head with his controller.
Sometimes they just spend it making out on the couch, enjoying all of those moments they didn't get to as teenagers.
But Friday nights - always just them.
yeeeeessssssss! 1000% correct!
i just know that they spend their week looking forward to their friday nights. the family already knows that they shouldn't even ask for them to come over unless it's absolutely needed.
friday nights are theirs. they're sacred. they're safe and cozy and quiet. they're love.
more often than not they stay in. rushing home, exhausted from a week of work. just looking forward to taking their uniforms and heavy boots off and just melding into one on the couch. sometimes it's just cuddling, other times it's all fucking. either way, they meld.
always in tune, they know when they just need a quiet night of holding. ian laying back with his head propped up on a couch cushion, while mickey settles in between his legs. nuzzling his face into the soft fabric of ian's t-shirt, one hand sneaking under the hem to feel ian's warm skin, making ian giggle with it. ian's fingers threading through his hair softly, his other hand running slow circles on mickey's back. reaching down to pull at mickey's shirt until he can touch his bare back. running his nails lightly and repetitively. up, down, up, down. taking such comfort in each other. recharging.
and on nights like that, they keep the slow soft energy throughout. getting take out, putting some mindless tv on, leaning back into each other again and again. allowing themselves time to touch and kiss and be as quiet and gentle as they want.
other times, though, they barely make it through the door with their clothes on. it's all hands and tongues and moans as soon as they park their car. ian ripping mickey's jacket open before the elevator doors even close. his teeth on mickey's exposed neck, his hands in his hair. grabbing. yanking. neither of them remembering making their way out of the elevator or even into the apartment. but now ian is shoving mickey hard onto the couch. mickey bouncing and giggling on impact. whispering a low "oh fuck yeaaa" when his eyes land back on ian. ian, who's looking at him like he's a meal about to be savored. devoured. breathing heavily through his mouth, smirking, heavy lidded eyes sparkling.
and on nights like that, they keep the hot heavy energy throughout. getting take out, putting some vibey music on, tearing each other part again and again. allowing themselves to float and shiver and be as loud and nasty as they want.
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